The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1887-07-28

/ waning love-
Deeper and deeper grows the shad-
ow, colder and colder grows his love,
| until-one day comes the end Wearied
| of her gloom and tears he speaks his
| sharp reproaches, and they part in
| bitter anger. He goes off to the city
| and she sits nursing her duh heart
ache all day long.
| Evening comes, but he does not re-
| turn. She watches and listens, but ne
| does not come. She will not break
| her fast or quench ner thirst: but he
| does not come She hears the trains
| come laundering in and harkens for
| his fooistep, but she hears 10 sound.
| Quieter and quieter it grows. She
waits for the midnight train. She
| watches at the gate, watches the road
as far as she can see in the cloudy at
mosphere.
She whispers his name over and
| over, "Francis, Francis" and pleads
| with him to come to her once more.
Il will never speak impatiently again,
never weary you, if you will only
| come she says. "Only come, Francis,
my love, my ALP
There is great agony in her cry;
| but he does not come. The last train
| is in. There are no more trains till
| morning. Why does not the morning
come? Oh, why? She filings herself
upon the earth and grovels in her
| terror and suspense. Francis, my
love. my love! Only come back to
mel"
And dawn breaks and the sun is
| risen, and happy day smiles upon the
| earth. But he has not returned.
The servant goes about the house
singing a careless song. Does the SER
want know the mistress agony?
| Toward noon the servant goes down
| to the village Dostoffice and presently
| returns with letter.
Give it to me-, the mistress says,
her face whittier than the white sails on
the distant water.
She is cold and dead atheart. She
knows his handwriting. sShe must
| read and-live or die.
The words must burn through her
eyes and fire her brain. Yet she does
not CRY out or fall swooning. She
only reads and reads again his cold
farewell.
Better for us to part at once. Z.
| We have made a mistake. . Before
| reading this YOU viii have heard of
| your husbands suicide, You drove
| him to it. He was a good husband to
you and you deceived him. We might
| live on together even now, when love
is dead, but you could hardly expect
me to respect you, knowing your crime
towards him. For my part am
heartily sorry.
The servant had gone away, and the
woman who read this fell down on her
| facs upon the floor.
"Godr' she cried hjIsfily; my crimel
| He told me what to do. He urged me
| no iIHp,ored. 1t WAS Tor his sake
| that | sinned, and now lie turns a.
| tauut mer'
She had cried her last strength of
passion out with these few husky
| words. Now she lay silent for
time. 1t was the end. She saw that
| his love was dead and he could not re-
| spect her. She would not have him
| come back to her now, not for all the
wealth of the universe. She would
| not have him back. But how to live
without him? How 20 live, to think,
| to breathe? How to keep from Shrek
ING TO heaven to let her die?
Francis loved her no longer The
| end had come. 1t was Nemesis She
had wronged her husband; that hus-
bands death avenged the wrong. All
was over, and welcome death at any
| hour.
The afternoon had dragged to its
close: the sun had set, and a soft breeze
stirred the glorious trees in the road.
| Twilight deepened.
4 slender form went out of the house,
and down the path, and through the
| gate. She did not look back, though
| she knew she was going out for ever.
| She did not turn her white pinched
face upward for any starlight to bless.
| She walked with head bent down, cold
as if half dead already.
| Sometimes she said over to herself
her name, "Irene," and his name,
Francis"
Dusk was fully come as she left the
road and went slowly down the rail-
road track towards the dark shadow
Of the deep cut.
Into the shadow she passed slowly,
resolutely' untremblingly.
The train sped swiftly along. One
man sat with head thrown back and
eyes fixed upon the car-lamps.
''It is quite dark by this time," he
said. - wonder if she is lonely. l
wonder if she has cried much, and if
| she is wishing for me to come now. d.
| shouldn't have written that letter.
/ But she'll forgive me. . No; | was
a brute, | suppose. Still she
made me so mad. And that Internal
suicide. :. {. She loved me very
much; she must have loved me to go
with me. Wei, its all over now
He's dead. Wen marry and she'll get
over shedding tears and moping
| better. . | wish | hadn't written
| that letter. I'll rot do it again She
| must have loved me very much. L
don't suppose, in her place, I'd have
made the sacrifice. And she's been
very true and good to me-"
There was a queer vibration of the
car. He stopped thinking and sat up.
| The train was coming to an abrupt
stop. This was not a station. They
were not yet at Westfield Had any
thing happened-any accident?
| The train had come to full stop.
1t was backing up now quite slowly.
He thought he would go out on the
platform and see what the trouble was
| or had been.
| He shivered a little at twhat he heard.
Someone walking upon the track had
! been struck and killed.
By-and-by. after considerable delay.
he saw them lifting white mass and
carrying it upon stretcher.
They took it into the guards van.
He hurried forward from his carriage.
as the train began slowly to move on
ward
And now he shuddered more and
more. For someone said: "a woman,
young and beautiful. And someone
else, "Mangled. No, not bleeding